


What It Takes

by barakatballs



Category: Raske Menn, The Fox - Ylvis (Music Video), Ylvis
Genre: AU - no wives or kids, High School AU, Kollektivet - Freeform, M/M, Norwegian Idjits, Raske Menn - Freeform, Rock Star!AU, alternative universe, ylvis - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barakatballs/pseuds/barakatballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calle Hellevang-Larsen by day works at a local Oslo gas station selling lotto tickets and expired food, but by night he's the lead singer in the hard rock soon-going-to-be-original cover band Raske Menn with his friends. One fateful night, Calle locks eyes with a mysterious stranger with a sunflower in his hair. It is true love at first sight? When the time is right, their lives will intertwine once again and both teenagers would have to open their hearts, but will old mistakes and regrets tear the singer and stranger apart? </p><p>{Calle Hellevang-Larsen/Bård Ylvisåker}</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> High School/Teenage Rock Star AU  
> It's a Ylvis/Raske Menn/Kollektivet Crossover set in high school  
> Note - the age difference. Their ages off but only for the sole purpose of the story.  
> Enjoy my Balle shippers <3

Calle was looking at the set list, his eyes trailing up and down the list, trying desperately to get those damn songs embedded into his mind. It shouldn’t be _too_ hard; he’s played these songs before but not in this _specific_ order. His platinum blonde hair had fallen, covering his eyes – adding more aggravation to his problem.

“Dammit Anders, why are all the hard songs first?” Calle shouted over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the scribbled paper.

Anders took this as an opportunity to stick up a crude finger and roll his eyes, “I thought you knew all these songs by heart?”

Calle sighed and muttered, “Whatever.”

There was no use or time to argue. Christian, their unofficial manager, was able to get them a gig at the summer festival in Bergen, and they weren’t going to blow it.

And so Calle continued to ram those songs into his head.

Øyvind tuned his bass guitar while sitting on an amp that had the name _Raske Menn_ written on it all with white spray paint. It was Calle’s way of getting the band’s name known to the audience –“Big and bold, they’ll never miss it.” Jan, the drummer for hire, sat on the couch, cracking his knuckles and listening to music on his iPod. Anders, their rhythm guitarist, leaned against the wall of the backstage dressing room, and played some guitar riffs for practice – everything had to be perfect even if it was just a festival concert. There was still the slight chance they could get noticed and slam a record deal.

“Hey guys,” Christian called as he poked his head through the door, making Raske Menn lift their heads from their previous activity, “Ten minutes.”

Calle felt a lump in his throat and gave a curt approving nod to Christian then returned to the list. Being nineteen years old and experienced, feeling nervous shouldn’t appeal to him, but he couldn’t help but feel the building knotting sensation in his stomach – messing up was his worst nightmare as a performer.

To fight the anxiety, Calle reached into the breast pocket of his denim jacket to pull out cigarette and light it, one smoke and his fears will all go away.

“Hey Anders,” Øyvind said, breaking the very uneasy silence, “Go and check the other band out, see how the crowd is.” Anders took off with an “Ok,” and left the remaining band members alone.

“You nervous,” Øyvind asked – he hated the silence that filled the room, and it coming especially from Calle just added to the pressure they were already feeling.

Calle leaned into his chair; eyes still glued to the paper and cigarette hanging on his pale lips, and lied “I’m ready for anything.”

“Then why are you sweating like a pig?”

“Fuck off.”

**~~~~~**

“Vegard catch up!”

Bård ran through the crowded streets of the ongoing festival, his older brother Vegard right on his tail. All the entire streets of Bergen - specifically Fana - were crowded with countless people – live music was playing, fresh food was being served, activities on every street – it was the definition of a perfect summer festival. 

And the Ylvisåker brothers found themselves right in the middle of it.

“This looks like the best one yet,” Bård commented with a smile. Vegard agreed with a nod as he licked his melting chocolate ice cream cone. Bård looked back to his parents and younger brother Bjarte behind them; it seemed that their attention was focused entirely on some circus attraction.  

“Mama,” Vegard asked, “Can Bård and I check out the other attractions out?”

“Ya,” Helga, their mother, answered “Just return back before it gets too dark.”

Bård couldn’t help but smile – he had always loved Fana’s festivals ever since he was a child – he was sixteen-going-on-seventeen now but his age didn’t break the happiness and giddiness he felt.

“Well,” Bård said as he grabbed his Vegard’s wrist, “C’mon!”

And with that, the eager sixteen year old dragged his eighteen year old brother through the streets to the concert area, where the current performance was just finishing.

“Bård slow down! You’re gonna make me drop – oh dammit!”

**~~~~~**

“Five minutes,” Christian called, “Get your equipment ready guys.”

Calle’s lips tightened around his cigarette. His head was still circling on Anders’ previous words after he came back from ‘checking up’ on the band before them. 

“ _We’re screwed.”_

The other band before them was a female duet group –‘ _similar to M2M but with more techno’_ –Anders explained and the crowd loved them.

Calle was worried that the audience, already pumped with techno dance music, will reject Raske Menn’s more hard rock sound.

So they made some adjustments in seven minutes.

“Okay we take out Black Sabbath,” Calle said as he hauled an amp to the stage.

“Take out Black Sabbath,” Øyvind complained as he pushed the drums onto the stage, “But I was rehearsing the bass line!”

Anders sided with Calle, “Øyvind, by the look of the crowd, I don’t think they even know who Black Sabbath is.”

Calle and Øyvind took a glimpse at the crowd.

They were a majority of young teens from ages thirteen to around twenty-something year olds with flower crowns, cropped tops; color dyed jeans, and colorful sunglasses.

_Oh fuck._

“Did you book us a gig with hipsters?” Calle whispered-yelled to Christian as he hauled another amp to the stage

Christian argued, “Look Calle, this was the only available gig I could get and by the way you’re in a festival – most bands get noticed in a festival!”

“Yeah, if the crowd likes the music,” Calle argued back.

Anders whispered, “What the hell are we gonna play then?”

**~~~~~**

Bård had managed to squeeze through the tight crowd and get closer to the front, just in time so he could see the upcoming band prepare for their performance. Vegard on the other hand, was struggling to get through and not let his new ice cream cone fall again.

Bård took a look at the band, his eyes darting to the spray painted amp that had _Raske Menn_ written on it. That certainly caught his attention. His curious eyes then began to analyze the stage – the stage crew, the instruments, the band until his eyes fell on a young man with long platinum blonde hair who was tuning his guitar and appeared to be having an argument with the other two band members.

He had certainly caught Bård’s eye.

The young man looked different from everyone else in the festival – long rock star hair to his shoulders with bangs on his forehead, a Jack Daniels black tee with sleeves rolled, and blue jeans on his long legs with white converse.

All his life, Bård has never seen someone like him before.

Vegard noticed.

“What you looking at?” Vegard had finally made it through the crowd – ice cream cone in his hand – just to find his brother staring the stage.

Bård broke away from his daze.

“Oh nothing,” he said with a shrug and began looking around aimlessly

Vegard knew his brother very well to know he was lying, but the summer weather was getting to Vegard so he let it slide.

Bård analyzed the crowd – many of them were teenagers around his age but in the corner of his eye Bård saw something that made him smile.

“Look at that,” he said quietly to Vegard, pointing his finger to a young girl, barely eight years old, who was passing by and handing out flowers from her wooden basket. The young girl saw Bård and with a smile skipped to him with a sunflower in her small hand.

Because of her size, Bård, who was almost towering his big brother, went down on one knee to receive the flower but the young girl instead placed it in Bård’s golden hair. The girl giggled and Bård chuckled, “Thank you.” Vegard couldn’t help but smile at the little moments where Bård was his natural friendly self; he hadn’t seen a lot of that lately ever since the big news.

Bård got up from one knee and stood next to Vegard as he adjusted the sunflower, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“Nice flower,” Vegard joked, “Though I don’t think sunflowers are your thing.”

Bård stuck out his tongue, “You’re just jealous that you didn’t get one.”

Vegard chuckled, “Whatever. Anyway, it looks like the band is going to start.”

**~~~~~**

Calle tightened the leather strap on his guitar; oh God he could feel the knotting sensation build greater in his stomach. Calle gulped and whispered to his friends, “Just play along with whatever I do.”

Anders and Øyvind looked at each other, uneasy with Calle’s decision but they had no other choice. Both went to their microphone stands and placed their fingers on their guitars, unsure which chord or string to pluck first. Jan sat by the drums and got himself ready, although he too didn't know what was going to happen.

Calle nodded to his friends and turned to face the microphone, he could feel a lump forming in his throat as he looked onto the crowd.

A hundred eyes were settled on him.

Calle took a huge gulp and one last glance at the timid crowd, placed his fingers on his guitar and began the opening riff of ‘Paradise City’.

The crowd, recognizing the iconic guitar riff, soon was intrigued.

Soon the drums were beating, and Calle took at as his cue:

_"Take me down to the paradise city; where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, oh you won’t please take me home.”_

“He sounds just like Axl,” Bård commented out loud, unaware that he started to compliment the singer.

_“Just an' urchin living under the street; I'm a hard case that's tough to beat. I'm your charity case, so buy me something' to eat. I'll pay you at another time! Take it to the end of the line”_

Raske Menn soon had the crowd enthralled.

The performance was fun and loud, successfully entertaining the audience.

Bård and Vegard along with crowd sang along and bobbed their heads to the beat of the song.

Anders and Øyvind banged their heads as they stomped the staged with huge smiles on their faces. Calle, being his inner rock star, took the microphone out of the stand and began running around the stage – _Take me down to the paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty; oh won’t you please take me home!_ – engaging the crowd to sing along.

‘Raske Menn! Raske Menn! Raske Menn!’ was chanted during the midst of the performance. 

Then the solo came.

Calle returned to the middle of stage and played his guitar, his slender fingers dancing on the instrument in a fast past hitting all the notes in a perfect synchronized matter. To finish the solo, Calle fell to his knees and raised the guitar with one arm with a thunderous applause.

And that’s what Raske Menn heard for their entire set.

They lived on that energy – the praise made their performances hundred times better. With each song they did – _Back in the Saddle, Back in Black, Wild Child, Rebel Yell, Heading Out for the Highway_ – they were always met with an unforgettable applause.

_And I'm heading out to the highway_

_I got nothing' to lose at all_

_I'm gonna do it my way_

_Take a chance before I fall_

_Yes, I'm heading out to the highway,_

_I got nothing to lose at all._

_I got nothing to lose at all!_

Calle finished song with him lifting the guitar – the audience gasped – and smashing it onto the stage.

~~~~~~

“Holy shit,” Vegard muttered.

“Whoa,” Bård said with wide eyes.

~~~~~~

“Encore! Encore! Encore!”

Calle smiled and wiped the sweat from his brow. He glimpsed behind him to see Anders and Øyvind panting and smiling – _they killed it out there._

The chanting got louder and Calle mouthed, “You sure?”

Two eager nods were his response.

Calle turned to the audience now calm, waiting for his response.

“Okay, we’ll do one more,” Calle said; a huge smile plastered on his face when he heard the clapping and hollering, “But just one more! We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

And with that, Raske Menn left the stage, for the moment.

Once they made it into the dressing room, the band was beaming and jumped in victory.

“They fucking love us,” Calle shouted with a huge grin on his face.

“I never heard so much clapping in my life, I think it’s my new favorite sound,” Anders commented. Øyvind patted both Calle’s and Anders' backs, “We did amazing out there, but what’s gonna be our encore?”

Christian interfered, “You got to make it a quick encore though; the other band is waiting.”

“What should we play?” Anders asked, rubbing his hands together. Øyvind made a nod in agreement as he chugged down an entire bottle of water.

Calle bit his lower lip and ran through every song he knew back and forth in his head, “Well we can play some Aerosmith, some Scorpions?”

Øyvind made a suggestion, “Another Guns n’ Roses song?”

Calle nodded vigorously, “Good one, the crowd seems to enjoy them more, but which one?”  

“Hey Calle hold the mic for a moment,” Christian asked out of the blue as he placed it into Calle’s hands, he needed to check on the amps for the next performance.

Calle tapped the mic on his chin, making an echo that shocked everyone in the dressing room.

“It’s on you idiot,” Christian hissed.

Calle shrugged and paid attention to his band members, “C’mon we need a song from GnR quick.”

“How about you Jan, any recommendations” Øyvind asked but Jan shrugged and responded, “Drummer for hire, doesn't really care what you guys do.”

“Well aren't you a help,” Calle muttered.

“Err,” Anders started counting his fingers, “We can do ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ or ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’ maybe ‘You Could Be Mine’ but like that’s six minutes, and we won’t do November…”

“November Rain!” Calle shouted accidently into the mic, and everyone could hear the crowd cheer in agreement.

Shit.

Anders snatched the mic from Calle’s hands and turned it off before he hissed, “November Rain is almost _ten minutes_ long!” Øyvind added angrily, “You said a quick one, Calle!”

“Well we can’t do anything about it now; the crowd expects that song now. I guess we’ll do the two minute version then.” Calle said with a careless shrug, “Rock n’ roll boys!” With the turn of his heel, Calle walked away from his baffled friends and moved towards the stage, “Hey Chris, help me get the piano out.”

“The piano?!”

Calle rolled his eyes and dragged a clueless Christian to the stage.

Anders and Øyvind stood speechless, trying to grasp what Calle just said.

“There’s a two minute version?”

~~~~~~

“C’mon Bård, we have to start heading home _now_!”

Vegard had checked his watch and it read 6:19, not very late but he and Bård had business to finish before tomorrow morning, “Bård?”

Bård broke away from his concert trance – he was so engulfed in the performance that he hadn't realized how much time passed. It was starting to get dark and Bård remembered his mother’s words – _“Just return back before it gets too dark.”_

But Bård didn't want to leave just yet; he _needed_ to see the encore.

“Bård,” Vegard said, tapping his brother’s shoulder, “Ma wants us home now.”

Bård looked up to the stage where he saw the Raske Menn singer haul a white piano onto the stage with a dark haired fellow.

Bård titled his head, eyes squinting at the _very familiar_ looking dark haired fellow. Bård couldn't put his finger on _who_ this person was, but he suddenly got an idea.

“Hey Vegard,” Bård said, pointing a finger to the dark haired man, “Doesn't he look familiar?” Of course he was stalling, Bård wanted to stay a bit longer but the person he was referring to did give off a sense of familiarity.

Vegard grew impatient with Bård not cooperating; he was very close to resort to taking Bård home by dragging him by his hair. Vegard took a glance at the stage, “C’mon Bård, we have to – wait.”

Vegard stopped mid sentence, taken back by the person he was told to look at.

Bård saw that his brother was distracted, he could tell by the way his eyes were no longer focused on him and that his jaw was half-open.

 _Victory_ _!_

Vegard couldn’t see very well – he forgot his glasses and contact lenses – but he _felt_ a connection to this stranger - even if all he saw was a walking blur.

Vegard’s head was rummaging for anything that could tell or possibly hint who the dark haired fellow was, his fingers scratched his dark curls and his eyes squinted to try and get a better look.

God he hoped he didn't look weird.

**~~~~~**

“Hey Christian, I think you got an admirer.”

Øyvind had been leaning against an amp, waiting for the stage crew to pick up the remains of Calle’s guitar, but he passed time waving at the beautiful girls in the crowd, when he saw a young teen around his age – eighteen – staring at Christian as he helped Calle with the piano.

With a grunt, Christian got the piano placed firmly on the stage, “What’d you say, Øyvind?”

Øyvind titled his head towards the direction of the crowd, “Look.”

Christian looked up and noticed right away the person looking right at him, “Vegard?”

A smile slowly formed on his lips but Christian looked away immediately and focused his attention on the piano, but Øyvind was quick to be aware of Christian’s sudden reaction.

“Hey,” Øyvind asked, “Everything okay?”

“It’s just –,” Christian stuttered – _Jesus_ Øyvind thought _It’s like he’s seen a ghost_ –“Nothing, I just got the chills.”

“The chills,” Øyvind said with a clear hint of disbelief in his gruff voice, “It’s July.”

“It’s nothing,” Christian shrugged, Øyvind opened his mouth to protest but Christian cut him off, “Calle, the piano’s ready.” And with that, Christian fled the stage, much to the disappointment to Vegard.

“What was all of that about?” Calle asked as he came over. Øyvind shrugged, “I don’t know, Christian’s not the one to act like that.” Calle looked over his shoulder to see Christian sitting down on a stool, head in his hands. Calle made a mental note to himself to check up on his friend later – now he had a show to finish.

Anders walked up to his friends, “You ready?” Calle nodded, “Yeah, yeah. You’re playing piano, Øyvind you got acoustic guitar – I’m going to shorten the song.”

“How the hell are you still going to do that,” Anders whispered. Calle had still not explained how he was going to do it.

Calle titled his head side to side, “I’ll find a way.” Anders sighed, it was useless to argue, and walked to the piano, praying Calle knew what he was doing. Øyvind came back to the scene as he tightened the strap on his guitar, “Ready when you are.”

Calle nodded and returned to the microphone stand. The crowd greeted Raske Menn with hollering and shouts. Calle smiled and waved, “Thank you very much ladies and gents, we got one more song for you guys – another Guns n’ Roses actually.” Calle paused as the crowd applauds, “It’s a long one but we um shortened it a bit.” The audience cheered again but quieted down when the song was about to begin.

Calle took a deep breath and held the mic tightly in his hands. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and brought the mic closer to his lips.

No cue was needed, for Raske Menn could see Calle was ready.

And with that Anders played the opening of November Rain, Øyvind strummed his guitar, and Calle sang:

_When I look into your eyes_

_I can see a love restrained_

_But darling' when I hold you_

_Don’t you know I feel the same_

_But lovers always come_ _and lovers always go_

 _And no one's really sure_ _who’s letting go today_

_Walking away_

_If we could take the time_ _to lay it on the line_

_I could rest my head_

_Just knowing' that you were mine_

_All mine_

_So if you want to love me_

_Then darling' don't refrain_

_Or I'll just end up walking'_

_In the cold November rain_

Calle finished the song with eyes closed.

…

He could hear _nothing._

The anxiety began to build up on him – _did they hate it? Why is everyone so quiet?_

Anders and Øyvind kept their gaze averted from the audience, too scared to look at the soundless crowd – _shit what did we do wrong?_

Calle looked up and stared into the crowd. He looked for a response, a motion, a face – _anything._

His eyes darted from each face in the crowd, and suddenly Calle locked eyes with a stranger.

The stranger looked younger than him – by a year or two – but what had caught Calle’s attention was just not the sunflower sticking out of the stranger’s golden hair but the blue eyes that stared into his – completely captivating him. Calle couldn’t explain the feeling inside but whatever it was, it made his knees weak.

~~~~~~

Bård couldn’t believe it – the singer was looking _at him_. It was completely accidental on all terms; one glance and their eyes were locked. Bård could see the singer in a better light than before – his cobalt eyes and fair hair, even his firm hands that clenched the microphone. The singer stared at him as well but took one quick glance to look at the quiet crowd; Bård could see him tense up. Bård looked around; the crowd was quiet but their mouths were open – taken back by Calle’s heartfelt performance.

Bård glanced at Vegard whose expression was just like the others – speechlessly in awe. Bård could see the singer and his band mates tense up, not sure if the crowd’s reaction was a positive or a negative. So Bård took it upon himself to start up the crowd.

“Raske Menn, Raske Menn,” Bård chanted in a whisper that gradually got louder which each claps he did, “Raske Menn, Raske Menn.” Bård nudged Vegard who joined in immediately, “Raske Menn, Raske Menn!”

Soon the crowd pitched in and a roaring applause was heard among cheers and shouts.

Calle looked up; eyes widened in surprise when he heard the cheering and soon a stupid grin formed on his lips.

Bård couldn't but feel that he accomplished something big.

Anders and Øyvind jumped from their positions and ran to the front to meet with Calle and the hollering got louder – _“Raske Menn, Raske Menn, Raske Menn!”_

Bård looked up to lock eyes with the singer once again– oh God he was smiling _back_ at him. Bård so desperately wanted to say something at moment but what could he say? _I think I love you?!_

 _Whoa,_ Bård thought to himself, _I think I love you? Calm down Ylvisåker._ There was no denying that Bård admired the singer greatly – like he would to Axl Rose or Robert Plant or David Gilmour, or even Kurt Cobain – but _love_ was a whole new meaning and major difference. Although Bård shook his head, he couldn’t fight the feeling inside that he would actually want to get the _know_ singer.

_And his name dammit_

~~~~~~

_Invincible_

That was the word Raske Menn felt – invincible – that they could do anything!

Before, Calle was petrified when he heard the silence – his fear growing as he looked at very face until his eyes stumbled upon a stranger with a sunflower in hair.

Purely accidental, Calle felt more relaxed when he looked into the stranger’s eyes – maybe because the stranger wasn’t motionless like the others. But Calle broke away for merely a moment, just to see if the crowd had done anything.

Stillness. 

Calle felt as if he was going to throw up at that moment – he’s _made it this far_ just to lose the crowd?

But then, he heard a voice.

_The stranger’s voice_

A soft voice, so sweet yet firm, that rose when he chanted ‘Raske Menn’ as he clapped his hands, engaging the crowd to tag along. The stranger then elbowed a dark haired curly man – _Wait_ , Calle thought, _I’ve seen that face before, like from a picture or something._

However, Calle’s train of thought was interrupted when Anders and Øyvind came to join him, grabbing his hands and raising them into the air – the crowd _screamed._

Calle’s smile got bigger and glanced down to the stranger, flashing a smile as a sign of gratitude. Calle could see a faint blush on the stranger’s cheeks but their locked eyes were broken when Christian came onto the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Christian shouted into the microphone – exciting the crowd, “Let’s give it for Raske Menn – Anders Hoff on rhythm guitar, Øyvind Rafto on bass, and Calle Hellevang-Larsen as lead guitarist and kick ass singer!”

And just with that introduction, a swarm of girls came rushing towards the front, hands outstretched, trying desperately to have contact with the band. Despite the girls hollering and pleads for attention, all that Calle could see was the stranger and the familiar curly haired fellow being pushed back from the front, disappearing into the crowd.

Calle could see the sunflower fall out from the golden hair.

~~~~~~

_What the fuck?_

A moment ago Bård was in front of the stage but after the somewhat formal introduction to Raske Menn, the crowd went ape shit.

Before he could even comprehend what had happen, Bård found himself along with Vegard in the back of the crowd. From what he could see from his blurry vision – he had forgotten his contact lenses and lost his glasses – Raske Menn took a final bow, a bra was thrown at the bass guitarist, and some girl screamed “TAKE ME NOW.”

 _Now that is a rock concert_ Bård thought with a smile as he ran his hand through his hair, but a frown formed on his lips when he did not feel the sunflower.

“Aw shit,” Bård muttered, “Hey Vegard have you seen my sunflower.”

Nothing

“Vegard,” Bård asked as he turned to face his brother.

Vegard stood motionless, his face completely still.

“Vegard what the hell is wrong with you,” Bård said, thought it came out harsh Bård was concerned, “You look as if you saw a ghost.” Vegard snapped out of his vegetable state and faced his brother, “Nothing, Bård.”

Bård rolled his eyes, “You know you’re a shitty liar Vegard.”

Vegard sighed, “I saw…boobs.”

Bård burst out laughing, “Boobs? Jesus Christ, Vegard your face was like if you saw the devil himself!”

Vegard chuckled, “Well it was so sudden and then we got shoved all the way here before we could even say a word!”

Bård laughed then looked up to the purple-pink sky turning darker by the minute, “Shit ma is going to kill us.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Vegard said frantically and starting speed walking on the route back home but Bård lingered, taking one last look at the now empty stage. That would be a concert to remember.

“Hey,” Vegard said softly, tapping his brother on the shoulder, “C’mon let’s go.” Bård half-smiled, nodded then followed his brother on the road back home, feeling a sudden emptiness fill his stomach as he walked further away from the stage.

“That was some concert,” Vegard said, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and bringing him in closer, “Wouldn’t you say so?”

Bård smiled, “It was,” but it soon faded, “Too bad it was the last one.”

**~~~~~~**

“We absolutely killed it out there!”

Cheering, shouting and high-fives were going around as Raske Menn celebrated their successful performance. Anders opened a pack of Cobra beer and Øyvind passed some around but Calle – the ‘kick ass star’ of Raske Menn – was lying down on the couch, staring at the ceiling fan.

Anders threw his shoe at him. 

“What the actual fuck, Anders?!”

“Why are you so depressed,” Anders questioned, “We killed it out there!”

Calle scoffed, “I’m not _depressed_ , I’m just tired you ass.”

Øyvind laughed, “Leave him alone Anders, we’re all tired anyway – we got to drive to Oslo in the morning.”

“Where we staying at again?” Calle asked absentmindedly.

“My Nona’s house,” Øyvind said as he took a sip from his bottle. 

“Ah yes,” Calle said sarcastically, “Because _real_ rock stars stay over at their grandma’s house.”

“Oh piss off,” Øyvind laughed, but got his payback “Well we could always stay at –”

“You shut your mouth Rafto,” Calle threatened, pointing a finger, “We don’t talk or even mention her.”

Øyvind raised his hands in defense, “Okay, okay! I’ll stop if you could at least get up and celebrate.”

Calle rolled his eyes but got up from the couch took the drink along with a bottle opener. Once open, Calle lifted it in for a toast, “Well, boys to us!’

“To us!”

And with that, Raske Menn chugged down the Cobra Beer  and coughed as they began to laugh.

“Did you see the chick who took off her top?”

"Did you ever catch that bra, Øyvind?"

“Wait did you see the one girl who fell off her some guy's shoulders!”

“Wait, wait did you see the dude who was taking a piss during _Back in Black_?”

“Or the boy with the sunflower in his hair?” Calle said as he drank down another glass, but stopped midway when he heard no laughter or any comment.

“Who are you talking about,” Anders asked. Øyvind finished his drink and nodded, “Yeah I didn’t see a guy with a sunflower in his hair.”

Calle raised an eyebrow – _wait did he imagine the boy?_

“Oh,” Calle said, “I guess my eyes were just messing with me.”

Anders and Øyvind agreed with a simple, “Yeah probably.”

Calle nodded but felt uncomfortable – he couldn't have imagined someone, that boy was real!

“Hey guys,” Calle said as he walked towards the exit, “I’m just gonna get some fresh air.”

“You okay?” His friends asked; it wasn't usual for Calle to act so strange.

“Yeah, yeah” Calle said with one foot out the door, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Calle then exited through the dressing room door and found himself behind the stage were the current band was performing.

_My heart is like a stallion_

_They love it more when it's broke in_

_Do you wanna feel beautiful?_

_Do you wanna? Y_ _eah!_

_I'm outside the door, invite me in_

_So we can go back and play pretend_

_I'm on deck, yeah, I'm up next_

_Tonight I'm high as a private jet_

Calle decided to join the audience and proceeded to walk towards the crowd –

_*crunch!*_

Calle looked down to see that he had stepped on a soda can and kicked it to the side, but when he did, he paused.

There it was.

The sunflower

Calle couldn’t believe it but he knew he couldn’t have imagined the stranger – it was impossible.

Gingerly, Calle bent down on his knees and picked up the battered sunflower that was pressed onto the concrete floor. He inspected it and a smile formed on his lips. Whoever the stranger was, Calle knew for sure that the stranger made him feel special - a feeling he hasn't felt in a while now. Calle laughed bitterly as he ran a hand over his face, “Oh Calle when will you ever learn?"

With a sigh, Calle crushed the fragile flower in his hand, letting the withered plant fall onto the floor from the palm of his hand. But that did not ease the emptiness Calle felt inside, all because of a blue eyed stranger with a sunflower in his hair.

All that Calle could hope for was that he would never see the stranger again, because if he did – old mistakes will repeat itself.

_Cause I don't know where you're going_

_But do you got room for one more troubled soul?_

_I don't know where I'm going_

_But I don't think I'm coming home_

_And I said_ _I'll check in tomorrow_

_If I don't wake up dead_

_This is the road to ruin_

_And we're starting at the end_

**Author's Note:**

> Aaannndddd that's the first chapter!  
> It's an introduction to Raske Menn as a rock n' roll band and of course the Ylvisåker brothers!  
> Regarding the music used/mentioned in this chapter - which was a lot, yowza - here it is in order of appearance:  
> \- Paradise City ~ Guns n' Roses  
> \- Back in the Saddle ~ Aerosmith  
> \- Back in Black ~ AC/DC  
> \- Wild Child ~ Heart  
> \- Rebel Yell ~ Billy Idol  
> \- Heading Out for the Highway ~ Judas Priest  
> \- November Rain ~ Guns n' Roses  
> \- Alone Together ~ Fall Out Boy  
> And oh, Jan (not Egeland haha) is a small character, won't appear in later chapters but is a somewhat pivotal role. Meh.  
> Who the hell is Christian? Christian is Christian Løchstøer who is a pal of Ylvis and co-writer to many of songs, especially The Fox. What's going on with him and Vegard? Why did Calle crush the sunflower? What old mistakes? Why is Bård upset? 
> 
> Feedback is very much welcomed and appreciated, here in the comments or drop an ask on my tumblr [ fifithefangirl]
> 
> Tusen takk <3  
> ~ fifi


End file.
